


No Name to Carry On

by crucifics



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: (eventual) - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Jealousy, King Geoff, Mad King Ryan, Minecraft, Slow Build, follows the progression of the kings, king AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7066267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crucifics/pseuds/crucifics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a long time, Geoff ruled the court of Achievement City, bringing relative peace and prosperity to the land. But as the years go by, his hold on the throne is faltering, and the wolves are closing in. The annual Tourney is fast approaching, and with it will come a political uprising unlike any the kingdom has ever seen. The men will face betrayal, heartbreak, jealousy, and bitter rivalry, as the struggle for power eats their trust to the core.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I started a long time ago, and only very recently picked up again :)
> 
> An in depth explanation of the shifting of powers within Achievement City, based heavily on the King Let's Plays, with some added flair and backstory to make it a little more cohesive within a fantasy context.
> 
> Enjoy!

**GEOFF**

     The King sighed wearily. “I will send my stonemason to deal with it.” He paused for a moment. “Haywood, escort Jack to the village. Be back by nightfall.”  
     The Vagabond nodded once.  
     He turned again to the villager that was kneeling before him. “Jack will repair your homes. I’ll have him start work on a wall soon. Will that be all?”  
     “Yes, Your Grace. Thank you, Your Grace.” The man bowed and left, followed shortly by Jack and Ryan.  
     By the end of the day, the King’s already sleepy eyes looked half dead. He gripped the armrest of the throne tightly, so as not to betray the tremor in his hands. He closed his eyes and swallowed shakily, trying desperately not to think of the wine that   awaited him in his chambers. He still had work to do. After this, it would be time for Gavin’s lessons. Unless the boy was nowhere to be found, which happened often.  
     Geoff frowned. His heir’s reluctance to be king had not escaped him, but he could not take that into consideration. The Kingdom would need a ruler after he passed, and Gavin was next in line. Geoff was not very qualified, and perhaps Gavin even less, but damn it if he wouldn’t train that boy to be the greatest king there ever was and ever would be.  
     The constant mutterings at court had not escaped him, either. Ramsey the Drunk, they called him. Lazy Lazer. Geoff the Indecisive. He knew he was a bad king. He knew he didn’t deserve the throne, but it was his, and he was doing his best. All he wanted was to purge himself of his addiction. To become clean. But every time he tried to escape it, it snared him back in, even more powerful than before. It was as if his body were immune to alcohol, and when he took a break, it lost all of its defense against the poison. The addiction was changing him, making him lazier, less inclined to make hard decisions. Oft, he found himself turning to the council of his four closest friends, asking for their help in ruling his kingdom. Ramsey knew they loved him. But he also knew they had no respect for him. In their eyes, he saw only pity, and occasionally, contempt. It worried him. Only one of the four still respected him: Michael Jones.  
     Geoff stood and, as if summoned, Michael came over from his post to help him. “Allow me, Your Grace,” he said, gripping Geoff tightly under the elbow. But the king was having none of it today. He pulled his arm away from the young man’s grasp.  
     “I can walk just fine, thank you,” he said, his voice more biting than he meant it to be.  
     Michael nodded, unfazed. “Allow me to escort you to your chambers, then.”  
     Ramsey bore it, knowing that even if he refused, the lad would insist. For months now, the boy had gotten into his head the ridiculous notion that he needed a personal guard to follow him everywhere. “I’m the most qualified,” the warrior had said, gripping the hilt of his diamond sword and puffing out his chest. Geoff had scoffed, waving away the idea, not realizing how insistent he would be.  
     “If you’re doing this so you can ask to be my personal guard again, forget it,” he said as they exited the throne room and began ascending the massive spiral staircase to the royal bedchambers.  
     Michael frowned. “How did you know?”  
     “Michael, it’s all you’ve talked to be me about for the last two months. Let it go. I am in no danger from an assassin, and if I were, you would prove of little use.”  
     The young man reddened. “I am a capable warrior--”  
     Geoff cut him. “And so am I. You’ve never seen me fight, Jones. I promise you, I could handle an assassin.”  
     “What of the Annex, hm? What if they send a spy to get close to you, and he takes you by surprise?”  
     “How do I know that’s not you?”  
     Michael went still, shock crossing his face. “Your Grace! How could you say that?”  
     “I don’t mean it, Michael. But you must admit, it’s a good point.”  
     He hurried to catch up with the king, who had continued going up the stairs. “No, it’s not! With all due respect, my King, you’re safest with me around. I just don’t see why you’re so adverse to the idea!” They stood outside Geoff’s door.  
     “Because I don’t want to be treated like an incapable child!” he exploded. “I don’t want someone to stand by my side while I eat and shit and sleep. This castle is full of guards, all very capable, and I trust them with my life. If an assassin slips through their ranks, then maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe it’s a sign that I’m not supposed to be king, and Gavin will get a shot at it. Have you thought of that?”  
     The king stormed into his chambers and slammed the door shut in the warrior’s stunned face. Immediately, he felt guilt for having lost his temper. He knew Michael only meant well, but it was getting very tiresome to have to turn him down every other day. Perhaps now the boy would finally listen.  
     He crossed the room to the table by the window, which overlooked the forest surrounding the castle. He poured himself a cup of wine and took a hearty gulp, feeling his anger wash away and his guilt intensify. He had promised Gavin he would stop.  
Gavin! In his eagerness to escape Michael, Ramsey had forgotten that the boy was due for a lesson. He sank into the nearest chair and took another sip. Oh, well. He was probably wandering the castle, or hiding in the courtyard, the way he usually did when he wanted to avoid something.  
     Geoff’s mind returned to Michael. He did have a fair point. Undoubtedly there were those who wanted Geoff out of the way, and having a personal guard would not hurt. Of course, Michael didn’t know the real reason Ramsey was averse to being followed. And honestly, he never would.  
     No one would.  
     The king finished his drink, then poured another.

 

* * *

 

 

**RYAN**

     Ryan Haywood watched Jack, feeling more than slightly impressed. “Are you sure you don’t need help with any of that?”  
     The other gave him an irritated look. “I said I’m fine. I’ve been doing this for fifteen years.”  
     He was referring to the pack on the latter’s shoulders, filled to the brim with building essentials. Ryan had once gone through it and made an inventory, though he had long since forgotten everything. Jack knew it better than he knew himself. The big compartment held his pickaxes and shovels; the smaller one sticks of dynamite. On the sides, there were pockets for essentials such as shears, redstone, brick molds, ingots, and torches. He had had it for so long it had essentially become an extension of himself.  
     Ryan shrugged, allowing the man his pride. He turned to the villager who was guiding them. “Is this the village bordering the tundra?”  
     The man nodded. “Yeah. We got a lot of Creeper visitors lately. We don’t got any walls, unlike Achievement City.” He sounded bitter.  
     “And that is why the king was generous enough to let us help you,” the Vagabond countered, his voice steely.  
     The man paled slightly and nodded, going silent.  
     Ryan and Jack shared an amused look behind his back.  
     The village appeared in the distance. It was small: no more than fifteen houses, with a single stone watchtower. As they drew nearer, it was clear to see the damage the Creepers had inflicted. Jack whistled. Two of the houses on the edge had been hit, presumably by the same blast. Gaping holes, like wounds, marred the sides of the residences. It was a wonder they were still standing.  
      Ryan watched as Jack set down his pack on the gravel path and began unpacking. “I’ll need lots of wood, and as many stones as I can get,” the stonemason muttered to himself. “Sand would be nice, but I doubt if it’s around…Maybe if I use dirt instead, I could…”  
     The Vagabond tuned him out, instead surveying the view. It truly was a beautiful kingdom. Trees dotted the landscape, surrounded by grass and flowers and wildlife. Free range cows grazed beside pristine white sheep. Clouds drifted across the sky, casting shadows along the hilled ground. In the distance, Achievement City sat on a hill, the tips of its spires shrouded by cloud cover. It was practically a utopia.  
     That is, until the sun goes down. That is when the monsters reign. Fearsome beasts out of nightmares crawl from their shadowy dwellings to roam the black landscape, attacking any creature they stumble upon. The dead wake, and limp through the trees, groaning and bemoaning their cursed state. Spiders the size of hounds roost in trees, waiting to drop down on the unsuspecting. It is fabled that the skeletons, armed with bows, will ride these creatures, but it is such a rare occurrence few believe the stories. Endermen blink in and out of sight, their purple eyes glowing like amethysts in the dark, challenging any onlooker to make eye contact. To do so is a mistake. And lastly, there are the Creepers. Considered sentient by some, they are fiercely protective of their territory and will kill themselves to defend it.  
     These thoughts unfurled a blossom of fear in Haywood’s stomach. He had only been at the mercy of the night once, and he had no intention of doing so again. He looked at the sky. “Jack,” he said, breaking the other out of his calculations.  
     “What?” It was surprisingly easy that time. Normally, he would take more prompting to come back to the real world.  
     “How long do you anticipate this taking?”  
      He followed the other’s gaze to the sun and frowned. “If I work quickly, four hours. Will that be enough?”  
     “We’ll have to high tail it out of here, then. Sunset will be upon us in four hours.”  
     Jack nodded. “In that case, I’ll need your help.”  
     As Ryan set to work mining stone, Jack went into the forest to gather lumber. He came back in a shockingly short amount of time, using a borrowed wheelbarrow to transport a huge stack of wood. Without a moment’s pause, he took his axe and began chopping them into rough planks. “Normally I’d sand them down, but we have no time for that,” he muttered, looking very unhappy about it.  
     “Sorry to stifle your passions, Jack, but I value my life more than neat looking planks. Will this be enough rock?” he asked, indicating the sizable pile at their feet.  
     The builder did a few mental calculations, his lips moving with his mind. “For now. If I need any more, I’ll let you know. Get to work filling in the hole.” He grabbed two planks and set them on either side of the same wall. “Like this. Then, fill it with rock and nail it all together. It should theoretically hold up better to blasts.”  
     As Ryan did as he was bid, he made small talk. “I heard that Prince Gavin managed to piss off Lord Burns.”  
     “And how did he do that?” Jack asked, bringing his axe down and splitting another log.  
     “Made a remark about his sigil. Said something like, ‘Is your sigil a cat because your family is a bunch of pussies?’”  
     Jack laughed heartily, wiping sweat from his forehead. “That kid sure can be dumb.”  
     Ryan laughed with him. “I wonder what compelled him to say such a thing.”  
     “Stupidity.”  
     They chuckled some more, then fell silent. After a while, Jack said, “Did you hear about King Ramsey’s proposal?”  
     Ryan pursed his lips, creasing his brow. “I can’t say I have. What is it?”  
     “He wants to allow Gavin to participate in the Tourney.”  
     “Why? What purpose would that serve? Gavin is the heir, if something were to happen to him...”  
      Jack shrugged. “You know how Geoff is. If he commands it, then that’s how it is. It doesn’t matter if it makes sense or not.”  
     The Vagabond stopped for a moment and leaned against his wall, turning to face Jack. “I see what you mean. What about that ridiculous event last year? ‘Ender Pearl Race’? He had us running for hours, only to have that battle back at the base. I practically couldn’t walk for weeks; I was so sore from teleporting all over the place.”  
      Jack looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, it was pretty annoying. But he is king, and we are his subjects.”  
      Ryan smiled disarmingly. “Of course, Jack. I’m not suggesting anything.”  
      They finished just before the sun touched the horizon.  
      Jack shouldered his pack and clapping Ryan on the back. “Let’s get moving. His Grace will be worried if we don’t show up soon.”  
     The pair waved goodbye to the grateful villagers as they headed down the hill and entered the forest. The fading light of day was struggling to penetrate the foliage of the trees, increasing their sense of urgency. The monsters would not be long in appearing. Ryan gripped his bow tightly, and though it wasn’t as effective a weapon, Jack had his pickaxe in hand.  
     The gates were in sight when they heard the first spider. With a hiss, it dropped to the ground in front of them, its eight red eyes glittering like rubies. It leapt at Ryan, but Jack caught it midair with his pickaxe, stopping all forward momentum and pinning it to the ground. He put his foot on its bulbous abdomen and wrenched the makeshift weapon free, splattering gore over the both of them.  
     “Come on!” shouted Ryan.  
      They began running down the path, heedless of the sounds coming from either side of the darkening forest. An arrow flew through the air beside Ryan’s ear, so close he heard the whistle. It disappeared into the brush.  
     “Open the gates!” yelled Jack as they drew closer.  
     The guards on either side hastened to obey, dragging it open.  
     The groans and creaks of the protesting hinges were like music to the gents’ ears, spurring them forward. By the time they were inside, the gates were almost closed again. A skeleton emerged from the dark, stopping just outside the ring of light the torches on the wall cast. It stared at them for a long moment, then turned and disappeared.  
     Ryan watched it go, shaken to the core.  
     Jack panted, his hands on his knees. “Damn. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”  
     Haywood tore his gaze from the darkness. “Nah. I think I’m just going to sleep. Maybe read a little first.”  
     “Suit yourself.”  
     They went their separate ways: Ryan to his chambers, Jack to Geoff’s.

 

* * *

 

 

**MICHAEL**

     Michael stomped down the stairs, his blood running hot. All he wanted was a chance to prove himself, and the king was having none of it. He wouldn’t get in the way, he would leave whenever Geoff wanted him to. He didn’t see why it was such a big deal, or why the king had to yell at him. He felt so put out there wasn’t a thing that could cheer him up, except maybe—  
     He crashed into someone at the bottom of the stairs, sending him tumbling flat on his back. He growled, leaping to his feet. “Watch where--” he began angrily, his tone harsh, before he realized who he was talking to. The warrior flushed scarlet, doing a deep bow. “Apologies, Lady Tuggey. That was my fault. Are you okay?” he straightened and looked at her, concerned.  
     The young woman smiled at him, adjusting the displaced strap of her gown. “I’m fine, thank you. You seem to be in a rush, so I’ll just leave you alone,” she said, making to move away.  
     “Oh, I’m in no rush at all! I mean, that is to say…If you wanted to stay and chat, I don’t have to be anywhere.”  
     She giggled. “I wish I could, but I was actually on my way to meet with Prince Gavin.”  
     He felt a worm of jealousy wriggle in his gut. “Prince Gavin? I didn’t realize you two were friends.”  
     She nodded, smiling a small smile. “Yeah, we’re quite close actually. He’s a great guy. He was going to… teach me potion-making skills.”  
     “Gavin? Potions?” he scoffed. “I’d imagine you could find someone around here that would be more qualified.”  
     Lindsay shrugged. “I suppose I could. But I don’t mind it. You’re more than welcome to come, if you want,” she offered.  
     He waved away the suggestion. “No thanks. I have stuff I gotta do anyway,” he lied. The thought of hanging out with Lindsay and Gavin and watching him make her laugh practically made him sick to his stomach.  
     “Suit yourself. I’ll see you around?”  
     “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He turned away, his sour mood intensifying. Stupid Geoff. Stupid Gavin. Stupid everyone. Court life sucked. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t guard people and he couldn’t hang out with girls? He stopped by a window and rested his elbows on the sill sullenly, glaring out at the perfect blue sky.  
      “Michael!” A familiar voice broke him out of his mental rant. Ray was standing in the courtyard below, a trowel in his hand. “Come join me!”  
     He sighed. He didn’t really feel like interacting with anyone else today, but Ray rarely made him angry. Jones shrugged and moved away from the window to the spiral staircase descending into the yard. He emerged into the bright sunlight, squinting against the shooting pains in his eyes. When he could finally see, he observed Ray kneeling in the dirt, trimming the excess branches on a rosebush. “What can I help you with?” he asked, his tone angrier than he wanted it to be. After all, Ray hadn’t personally done him any wrong.  
     “I just wanted company. If you’re not in the mood, though, I don’t mind,” he said, looking up at his friend comfortingly.  
     Michael sighed, sinking into a cross-legged position on the ground beside him. “No, you’re fine. I’m just in a shitty mood, that’s all.”  
     Ray waited expectantly, knowing the angry ginger would need no prompting to launch into his rant.  
     “It’s just—do you ever feel like you have nothing to do? I mean I know you have your gardening, but what about me? Sure, I can fight, and standing guard in the throne room is okay. But I wanna do more. I wanna be of actual fucking importance. I keep asking Geoff if he’ll let me be his personal guard, but every time I bring it up he gets all touchy and sends me away. It’s like he hates me or something, but I know he doesn’t. He’s fucking up too much, and sooner or later someone’s gonna do something about it. I wanna be there for him. I love him like a father, Ray, and he isn’t letting me do shit about it, and I’m pissed.”  
     Ray opened his mouth to offer counsel, but Michael forged on.  
    “And you know what else? That stupid Gavin is pissing me off!”  
     The gardener creased his brow, confused. “Gavin? What did he do?”  
     Michael ripped up a tuft of grass angrily. “He’s just…He’s just a real lousy dude, you know?”  
     “No, I can’t say I do.”  
     “Well, I mean…” Michael glared at his friend. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you. You little prick.”  
     Ray threw his hands into the air. “Make you say what! I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, pulling a weed out of the ground.  
     “He’s been hanging out with Lindsay,” he said reluctantly.   
     “Ah.” Understanding dawned on the young man’s face. “That doesn’t mean anything, though, right? Just because they’re hanging out doesn’t mean he’s into her, or vice versa.”  
     “Yeah, I know that. I’m not dumb, but…what if? If Gavin and Lindsay got together, I don’t know what I would do with myself.”  
Ray picked up a rose petal off the ground and stroked it softly as he thought. “This might sound critical, Michael, so before you get mad know that I mean this in the nicest possible way. But you’re not exactly putting in a lot of effort to snare Lindsay yourself. And if you haven’t told Gavin you’re into her, then he wouldn’t know to back off. So it wouldn’t exactly be his fault…”  
     The warrior glared. “So you’re saying it’s my fault?”  
     His friend shrugged.  
     He stood and dusted himself off. “Whatever. I’m gonna go find Ryan and practice fighting.” He began walking away.  
     “He’s out with Jack. They won’t be back until later,” Ray called after him.  
     Michael groaned. This was the shittiest day ever. “Whatever. Maybe I’ll go shoot some arrows or something.”  
     He left his friend in the rose garden and headed to the armory, where he would find a bow waiting for him. Unfortunately, he found something else waiting, too.  
     “Micool!” Prince Gavin perked up when the lad entered the room.  
     The warrior cursed, turning to leave, but the prince ran over to him and stood in the front of him, unwittingly blocking his exit.  
     “I wanted to give you something. Remember the other day when we found that chicken in the yard and Ryan shot it? Well, I took one of the feathers and made it a necklace. For you!” He held it up for Michael to see. It was a small brown feather tied onto a black chord with a single blue bead on the quill.  
     He ignored it, instead asking, “Shouldn’t you be somewhere else right now?”  
     Gavin’s smile faltered, and the hand holding the necklace lowered. “What do you mean?”  
     “Lady Tuggey said you were going to teach her potions,” he said, his voice emotionless.  
     “Bollocks! That was today! Here’s your necklace, I have to go!” He pushed the gift into his friend’s hand and took off down the hall, leaving Michael alone.  
      Jones wasn’t in the mood for archery anymore. He wasn’t in the mood for anything. He tossed the necklace onto the ground and went to the barracks, where he lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.  
     It was a shitty day.


	2. Chapter 2

**RAY**

     Ray Narvaez II was packing up his gardening bag when he spotted the prince approaching him, looking dejected. He was clutching a necklace in his hand.  
     The gardener sighed. “Come on, Gavin. I have to patrol the halls, but we can still talk.”  
     He just nodded, waiting patiently for his friend to finish gathering everything. When he was done, they exited the courtyard and moved down the empty halls, the flickering light of candles compensating for the fading light of day.  
     “I have to go drop off my supplies and get my armor, then we’ll patrol together,” he said, putting one hand on his friend’s shoulder.  
     Gavin followed him, like an obedient puppy, up the narrow spiral staircase to the barracks. He stood patiently in the doorway while Ray moved to his bed, the last one in the row, and opened the chest at the foot of it. Inside was a wreath of roses, which he touched fondly, before setting his bag inside. He pulled out a chest plate and strapped it over his black and white tunic, then grabbed his sword and stuck it into the sheath at his belt.  
      “Alright, let’s go.”  
      Gavin waited until they were back downstairs, moving among the columns, to speak. “He didn’t like my necklace, Ray.”  
     “What makes you think that?”  
     “Well, I saw him in the armory, and I showed it to him, but he completely ignored it. He seemed kind of miffed, actually. Then he reminded me that I was supposed to be with Lindsay, so I put it in his hand and ran off. I came back to the armory after me and Lindsay were finished…well, finished, thinking I would keep practicing archery, since I’m so bad. Anyway, I saw it just lying on the ground, like he threw it there.”  
     Ray frowned. He understood that Michael was unhappy with Gavin, but that was uncharacteristically rude. Perhaps he liked Lindsay more than Ray had realized. “Did you talk to him about it? Maybe he forgot it,” he offered, trying to lift his friend’s spirits.  
     “I dunno. I don’t think so… I don’t understand it, either. Why is he mad at me? Did I do anything wrong?”  
     He shrugged, though he knew very well the reason why. “Not that I know of. Sorry, pal,” he muttered, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.  
     The prince sighed. “It’s fine. I just…Oh well.”  
     “So what were you and Lindsay doing, anyway?”  
     Gavin smirked, instantly perking up, just as Ray had intended. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone, but I can trust you. You know how Ryan’s gone for the day?”  
     Ray nodded.  
     “We led a cow into his chambers,” he whispered, giggling at the thought. “Lindsay grabbed wheat from the royal gardens, and we led it through the gates and into his room.”  
     The gardener’s eyes widened. “How’d you pull that off? Did anyone see you?”  
     “Well naturally a couple guards did, but I said it was my royal command they don’t tell anyone. I know which ones saw too, so if anyone tells they’ll lose their jobs. Pretty top, huh?”  
     He snickered a little. “Yeah, that’s pretty sweet. How do you think he’ll react?”  
     “Oh, I dunno. Probably ask around a bit and find someone to get rid of it. I just hope it makes a little mess before he does anything about it.”  
     They walked in silence for a bit, approaching the dining hall. The clatter of silverware against plates filled the empty halls, accompanied by the smell of cooking meat.  
     Gavin inhaled deeply. “Ooh, that smells wonderful. Fancy a bite?”  
     “Nah, I gotta finish my rounds. You’re more than welcome to leave though, if you want.”  
     “No, it’s okay. I’ll just get something later.” They passed the open doors, giving them a view of the four long tables, heaped with food that was quickly being eaten by the various members of court. They had almost passed completely when Ray spotted a familiar ginger head.  
     Gavin did, too.  
     “Micool!” he cried, dashing into the hall.  
     “Gav, wait…!” he tried to call his friend back, but the prince was already lost in the noise of the vast room. He sighed, watching as Gavin sat down next to the angry warrior. He said a few words, holding up the necklace, but Michael looked irritated. He could practically feel the anger as Jones snapped out an angry response, took his plate, and walked out. He stormed past Ray, not paying him any heed at all.  
     Gavin sat there for a moment, looking thoroughly dejected, before slowly standing and exiting the hall.  
     “Hey Gav, hold up a sec…” he began, reaching out to comfort him.  
     The prince shrugged away his touch. “I’m just gonna go take a walk, actually. Thanks for hanging out.” He walked down the hall, his shoulders hunched.  
     Ray frowned, his heart sinking. He hated it when they fought. It hadn’t used to be like this. Michael was always cruel to Gavin, but he never meant it, and Gavin knew that. Recently though, the ginger had become more vicious, with less of the joking sentiment behind it. He wondered if it had something to do with the fact that Geoff was spurning him.  
     And Gavin’s…feelings certainly complicated the issue. While Michael saw their relationship as just fun and games, Gavin took it very seriously, and the fact that the warrior couldn’t recognize that put a lot of strain on him.  
     He walked down the hall, his feet as heavy as his heart, and continued his patrol alone. Somewhere near the armory he saw Lord Burns, looking positively devious. He was holding one of his shoes in his hand.  
     “Hey, Narvaez, you haven’t seen that snobby little prince around by chance, have you?”  
     Ray narrowed his eyes. “Why do you ask?”  
     “I’m gonna teach that kid a lesson.”  
     “With your shoe?”  
     He waved the question away, as if it were ridiculous that such a question even needed to be asked. “Yes, with my shoe. Have you seen him?”  
     He shook his head. “Sorry, no. I would check the dining hall.”  
     “Sweet, thanks.” He moved past the guard, walking jerkily due to the height difference from the lack of shoe on one foot. “Stay fresh, kiddo,” he called over his shoulder.  
     “Sure thing, boss.” He made a face as he continued walking, confused by that entire interaction. It wasn’t long before he saw someone else, though this encounter was more welcomed.  
     “Jack! You’re here! How was your adventure?” He embraced his companion.  
     “Terrifying. We barely made it back in time. Had a run in with a spider just outside the gate.”  
     His eyes widened. “Seriously? They’re getting bolder,” he muttered to himself. “I’m glad to see you’re safe. Is it really that dark out?”  
     Jack nodded. “It’s been dark for a while now. I was just heading up to Geoff’s room for a drink.”  
     “Huh. Well I guess it’s time to hand off my patrol to Michael. Hey, do you by chance know where Ryan is?”  
     “Uh, I think he said he was going to his chambers. Said something about reading a book. Why? Do you need to see him?”  
     “Nah, it’s fine. I was just wondering. So I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then. Enjoy your drinks with Geoff. Try not to get him too drunk, I think he’s already been drinking.”  
     “When isn’t he? I’ll send him your regards.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared around the corner.  
     Ray decided to just finish his circuit before he went back to the barracks. After all, Ryan’s chambers were on his route. As he passed the Vagabond’s room, he heard a faint moo. He snickered and approached the door, knocking on it a couple times. “Ryan? Is that you? You okay in there, buddy?”  
     There was no response.  
     He shrugged. Maybe he hadn’t made it to his rooms yet.  
     Ray finished the circuit just in time for his bedtime. He climbed up the steps to the barracks, suddenly feeling exhausted. Michael was sitting on his bed, the one adjacent to Ray’s, sharpening his sword.  
     The gardener pulled off his armor and set it in his chest before collapsing on the red wool blanket. “You’re up, Michael,” he muttered into his pillow.  
     His friend said nothing, just stood and left.  
     Ray sighed and rolled over, closing his eyes. This was getting old.

 

**JACK**

 

     Jack climbed the stairs to the royal chambers, clenching and unclenching his fist. His hands were still trembling from the encounter with the spider. He gave himself a mental pep talk to calm down; he was fine, no one had been hurt, and he would never cut it that close again.  
     He reached the top and paused outside the door, catching his breath. Geoff’s rooms were at the highest spire in the castle, so high it penetrated the cloud cover. On a clear day, the view was more breathtaking than the stairs though, so he supposed that was worth it.  
     He knocked and pushed the door open, not even bothering to wait for a response. He and the king were very close; few of the customary social cues applied to Jack.  
     “Jack! How was the trip, buddy?” Geoff moved away from the window, setting his cup down on the table.  
     He shuddered. “Not great. We almost didn’t make it back. Mobs were stepping on our dicks right outside the gates.”  
     Geoff rubbed his eyes. “No shit, huh. I’ll have to send Ryan out to investigate that… Fuck.” He moved to the chair by the fireplace and sat down heavily, slumping into the plush leather. “Bring those, will you?” he asked, motioning at the flagon and the cup.  
     Jack did as he was bid, grabbing an extra cup as well, before moving to the seat adjacent to his king’s. He poured a cup and handed it to him, much to the other’s gratitude.  
     Geoff took a sip and stared into the flames, his eyes distant. He said, “The mobs are acting strange. Creepers are destroying villages; it doesn’t matter how many torches are put up. Spiders are attacking you just outside the gates… I heard a peasant villager come in the other day and say he saw three Endermen in his field, stealing his livestock. Three Endermen, can you believe that? They almost never assemble in groups of more than two, and even that’s rare.”  
     Jack poured himself a cup of wine as he spoke. “I’ve noticed that, too… Have you talked to Gavin about it?”   
     Gavin, in his youth, had actually been raised by the Creepers, until the age of four. No one knew how or why they took him in and kept him alive. Whenever they prompted him to tell them what it was like, he shut down, and refused to say a single word about it. His upbringing with the Creepers would potentially give him insight into their habits, and maybe explain this increase in activity.  
     “Huh, I hadn’t thought of that…But you know, as close as Gavin and I are, he still hasn’t talked to me about it at all. I don’t know if I want to push him… He always seems so uncomfortable when I mention it.”  
     The bearded man shrugged. “Alright, just a suggestion. I doubt he would know what’s happening anyway.”  
     Geoff took a gulp of his wine, and for a while they sat in silence, each mulling over private thoughts. Finally, Geoff spoke. “Being king sucks, Jack. It sucks dick.”  
     He looked at his friend, concerned. “Why do you say that?”  
     "It’s such a chore. I hate having to make decisions every day that affect all of my subjects. I hate having people look up to me, or thinking they can’t just sit down and have a man to man talk with me. I haven’t been in a bar fight in ten years, you know that? Not since I became king, anyway… I just want to hang up my crown and live in the country, you know? Or maybe just serve as a simple guard, or a… or a messenger or some shit like that.”  
     “Don’t say that, Geoff,” he said, turning to face him. “You are a great king, and I know it’s hard, but as far as it goes, things could be a lot worse. You have four great friends and an adopted son who love you more than anyone in this world. And your court subjects are loyal. I have not had wind of a single whisper of treason or discontent since you took the throne. You are just and you are righteous, and though you have your doubts, you still run this kingdom beautifully. Sure, it could be easier, but is it worth it? If you step down, Gavin will be king. And, no offense, I love the boy dearly, but he is not yet fit to rule. He needs more time. He could be advised, sure, but if he has no autonomy, the people will not respect him. Your rule is the best thing for this kingdom, Geoff.”  
     Ramsey looked at him, a small smile on his face. “You think so?” he asked, clearly touched.  
     Jack nodded. “I really do,” he murmured.  
     “Thanks, pal. I feel better now.” He paused. “I miss when it was just the two of us. Before all the politics and the throne and the court life. I wish we could go back to just fucking around all day and living life in the moment. You know?”  
     He sighed, taking a gulp of his wine. “I do. But you found Gavin, and then Michael showed up, and then we met Ray, and Ryan… Remember the day we met Ryan?”  
     Geoff chuckled. “Of course. He rode into the kingdom on a pig. Wasn’t he leading it with like a…a melon or something?”  
     “A carrot. On a stick.”  
     “Right, right. What a strange motherfucker.”  
     From there the mood lightened, and they talked and laughed and drank until both were starting to feel it. “And so Gavin says, ‘I bet your sigil is a cat because you’re a pussy!’” Geoff spluttered, dissolving into fits of laughter.  
     Jack laughed until his sides hurt, the story even funnier the second time. “Did Burnie beat him up?”  
     Geoff wiped away tears. “No, no I don’t think so. He’ll probably play that stupid shoe game, though. You know, the one where they sneak up on each other and throw their shoes? Fucking stupid if you ask me.”  
     Jack took a gulp of his fourth cup of wine, his cheeks rosy. “Those two have the strangest relationship…Oh, which reminds me. I heard Gavin and Lady Tuggey have been hanging out recently, is that…?”  
     Geoff shrugged. “It’s news to me. But if there’s anything between them, I approve. Lindsay is a good kid. I think she’d make a good wife.”  
     “What do you mean it’s news to you? Does Gavin not share these things?”  
     “Gavin and I haven’t talked a lot lately,” he muttered. “I think he resents me for trying to teach him how to rule.”  
     “Is he that reluctant?”  
     “Like you wouldn’t believe. Every time I set up a lesson, he’s nowhere to be found. Even when he does show up, he’s whiny and sullen. I would punish him, but frankly I can’t blame him. It sucks.”  
     “Huh. Maybe just work small lessons into conversation? Don’t sit down with him and have an hour long chat about it, just casually mention something he should know every once in a while?” he suggested, shrugging.  
     Geoff considered it. “Maybe. I’ll try that, since the current method isn’t working too well. If only he would show up, now…”  
     Jack finished his drink and set the cup down on the small table between them. “I’m sure he’ll be along shortly; it’s getting pretty late.” He stood and stretched. “Which, unfortunately, means I should be getting to my chambers. But it’s been great, pal. We haven’t done this in a while, I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”  
     He smiled tiredly. “Of course. You just say the word.”  
     The stonemason picked up his pack from next to the door and left, heading down the stairs. He passed Gavin and smiled at him, but the boy looked too absorbed in thought to notice him. He shrugged it off and instead focused on the bed that awaited him.

 

**GAVIN**

     Gavin moved through the castle sluggishly, his heart as heavy as a stone in his chest. This day had been going great until Michael decided to be a right prick and ruin everything for him. He shrugged it off. No. He and Lindsay had just played the greatest prank of the century on Ryan and he wasn’t going to let stupid dumb idiot Michael wreck his mood.  
     He walked up the stairs, his heart getting lighter and lighter, until he was practically skipping. He couldn’t wait till breakfast tomorrow! Then they would get to see how Ryan reacted. Maybe they would find a chicken and put it in there; start a little farm. Oh, that would be top… And he would be so confused... He passed Jack going down the stairs, not even noticing him.  
     In his excitement, Gavin forgot all about his lesson with Geoff. He pushed the door open to his chambers, the ones adjoined to Geoff’s, a grin on his face. It vanished in a flash when he saw Geoff sitting at the plush leather seat in front of the fireplace, holding a goblet of wine.  
     “Gavin, you’re here! What were you up to all day?” He set the cup down on the stone tiled floor and stood, stretching.  
     “I hung out with Ray for a bit,” he offered.  
     “And?”  
     “Me and Lindsay also hung out. I practiced a bit of archery. Well, I meant to, anyway.”  
     “What did you and Lindsay do?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.  
     Gavin smiled a little. “It’s not like that. We just…” he remembered what Michael had said. “We made potions together.”  
     “Potions?” A spasm of alarm crossed his face. “Where’d you get ingredients for a potion?”  
     He blinked, confused by Geoff’s reaction. “The, uh, the store room. There was a bit of magma cream…Why?”  
     He shook his head. “Never mind. So I guess you aren’t feeling up to a lesson?”  
     “Uh…” he pretended to think about it. “No, sorry…Maybe tomorrow, though,” he offered, knowing full well that it wouldn’t happen.  
     “Nah, it’s okay. Some other time.” He scratched his side and yawned. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
     “Oh, uh, yeah. ‘Night.” He blinked, surprised. Normally Geoff would press it more, insisting he learn. His lenience took the young prince off guard.  
     Geoff grabbed his goblet and headed through the doors on the opposite wall of the fireplace, leading to his bed. He smiled tiredly at Gavin before closing the doors.  
     He stood there for a moment, perplexed, before pushing through the door by the fireplace into his own bedchamber. It was small, and would have been considered modest, if not for the intricate paintings covering every inch of the walls. There were paintings of Creepers, fruit bowls, lords, landscapes, skulls, and men fighting with a strange, foreign style.  
     He sat on his double bed and stared at the Creeper one above the door, its dark eyes seeming to flicker in the low light of the torches. Gavin sighed. He reached under his pillow and pulled out a large scrap of cloth, stroking it gently. He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and making a small sound of comfort. He put it lovingly back under the pillow and lay down, not even bothering to change.  
     It was a long time before he was able to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter 2! These are still small chapters, I think I'm going to keep up the trend of 3 POVs per chapter, but as I keep writing I'll think I'll make those sections a bit longer c:
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Plot is still a little slow, but it should pick up in the next one.
> 
> Have a lovely day!
> 
> (My blog is savingprivatehaywood.tumblr.com <3 feel free to message me!)

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much a work in progress, so I may go back and edit some things from early chapters as I continue to write c: I have much more than this written already, but i figured I'd upload in small chunks to ease into it. Updates should happen every few days, for the first couple weeks or so!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated <3
> 
> Have a good one!


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